


Out of Nowhere

by FandomDancer



Category: Conspiracy Theory - Fandom
Genre: Conspiracy Theories, Dead Father - Freeform, Father murdered, First Meeting, Gen, I have no idea what tags to put because this is a brand new fandom, Julia Roberts - Freeform, Mel Gibson - Freeform, Mugging, New York City, Scene referenced in film, Spring Solstice, Takes place before movie, cab driver - Freeform, hero - Freeform, may help to have seen the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomDancer/pseuds/FandomDancer
Summary: Alice Sutton is walking home from work when she is attacked by muggers. New York cabbie Jerry Fletcher comes to her rescue. It's an innocent but pivotal first meeting. Who is Jerry Fletcher?





	Out of Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with this little film called "Conspiracy Theory" (Mel Gibson, Julia Roberts, 1997), and thought there was a ton of history and backstory and even sequel potential contained within the film. This oneshot is my take on the pivotal meeting of Alice and Jerry that takes place six months before the film. If you've seen the film, I hope you enjoy. If you haven't, I highly recommend it. It's extraordinarily intelligent, with plenty of twists and turns. You will laugh, cry, and recoil in horror.
> 
> I have another oneshot that is almost ready to be posted that takes place during the film, and am working on a sequel to the film as well.

                The red of the setting sun brushed the tops of the buildings in New York City as Alice Sutton trotted home. Night had already fallen on the roads, the neon signs lighting up eagerly to welcome the adventurous crowds. Cars buzzed past, the drivers either not noticing the light snowfall that had coated the world that day, or simply not caring. Most of the pedestrians did their best to avoid the curbs, not wanting to slip off or be in the way of flying debris as cabs skidded to a stop in front of them. A chill breeze snaked through the buildings, stealing hats and papers, and causing many a tourist to clutch their jackets closed and tuck their noses in. The first day of spring was an odd day for a snowfall, but New York was permanently full of surprises.

                Alice turned away from the crazy bustle of First Avenue, deciding to take quieter roads to her home in East Village. She was regretting not taking a cab. When she had left the Criminal Courts building several minutes before, she’d been boiling over with frustration, her temperature high, her body filled with energy. She’d been ready for a brisk walk home to calm down. But the unexpected cold had sapped her far faster than she had anticipated, leaving her stumbling and exasperated at putting herself in this situation. Generally, she was sinking into a bad mood and looking forward to a hot meal and a good run. Thank goodness today was Friday. She would be able to catch up on the trial for Ezekiel Walters over the weekend, see if any positive changes had come about.

                Ezekiel Walters had killed her father. Of that, Alice Sutton was certain. But she was stuck at her desk, unable to step forward and help with the prosecution, unable to do anything because of three poisonous little words: _Conflict of interest_. It was her father, and consequently she wasn’t permitted anywhere near the case. All she could do was watch the appeal in her spare time and read what had happened that day. Which meant she was watching the prosecution restate the facts about Walter’s supposed bank fraud while no one even wondered why the hell the judge who had initially denied him his appeal was dead. And even worse: no one seemed to care. Judge Harold Sutton had been shot in his stables one day while Alice attended a horse show and there had been a painful lack of evidence pointing fingers to anyone. Eventually, the case had gone cold. Her father had been murdered, and the justice system had given up on finding out who had done it.

                Alice was furious. She was too personally involved, she knew. But how could she not be? She worked her tail off bringing others to justice and bringing closure to their families. It was unfair that she would not receive the same treatment.

                “Excuse me.”

                The voice was right next to her and she jumped, swinging towards it. As she pulled herself from her thought and reregistered where she was, three boys surrounded her, pressing in uncomfortably close. One of them grabbed her bag, which had swung towards him as she turned, and was toying with the clasp, a wicked smile spreading across his face. Alice felt herself turn cold, her limbs suddenly feeling very distant from her body. She yanked the bag back to her body and pressed a hand on it. “Excuse _me_ ,” she replied. “Please let me pass.”

                The boy in front of her sneered. He had bad teeth, a cut on his hand, and looked like an average twenty-something male.  Alice’s sharp mind subconsciously filed away his details. It was almost second nature to just pick up on those things for her. Not that they would do her any good in the immediate moment.

“You need permission to walk here, pretty lady,” the blond said. “And I’m not in the permissive mood unless you’re willin’ to pay up.”

                “She smells good,” one of the guys behind her said, and Alice turned to look at him. He was Latino, short, hefty, with beady eyes. “Smells like money.”

                “That’s a nice bag,” said the third guy, a black-haired beanpole standing well over six feet who was clearly older than the other two. His clothes hung off him and he sniffed a lot. “Thinkin’ that bag will be a good price.”

                “Shut up!” the blond said. A silvery flash caught Alice’s eye and she looked to see a switchblade hovering in the air before her. Terror gripped her throat and she clutched her bags even closer, her mind racing. She hadn’t had to use her self-defense training in a real-world situation in years, and she suddenly felt like a student again, facing down her final test. Except these guys weren’t testing her and if that blade caught her skin it was going to draw a lot of blood.

                “We’re taking whatever we want,” the blond ordered. “Money, clothes, all of it. And whatever you got left…we might take that too.” His eyes flicked to the side, towards an alley. Alice’s stomach turned over and her legs tensed. She could pretend to cooperate for a few seconds, get them off guard, and then bolt for the busy streets. Her alarm whistle was in her coat pocket. If she could just get it out and sound it, she would draw someone’s attention somewhere. She didn’t want to abandon her bag but she could throw it at one of them or off to the side, potentially distracting them…

                A horn screamed from down the street.

                Everyone jumped, Alice included, and spun to see a car barreling towards them. The headlights were on high, turning the darkening street into midday, and the horn blasted in both long howls and short, chattering bleats. The boys scattered, and Alice dove to the side as the car…which she could now see was a cab…skidded to a stop right where she had been standing. The driver’s side door opened, and a thin man came tumbling out, a grey beanie covering his hair. He landed in a crouch and she caught a glimpse of rugged good looks and blue eyes before his voice caught up to her. “Are you okay? Hey, _are you okay?_ ”

                She had no time to answer him, her brain spinning as it tried to catch up with what was happening. The heavyset Latino came sliding across the hood of the car and slammed into the driver hard enough to knock him to the ground. Alice gasped and scrambled out of the way, onto the sidewalk. Shooting a look down the street, she saw the beanpole tearing back towards them. “Look out!” she shouted.

                The Latino took a swing at the driver, who ducked it, and lashed out, missing as well. The two of them circled each other, each taking a swing and missing. The beanpole slid to a stop by the car, letting the Latino handle the driver alone. The driver shot a look at the tall kid and retreated a step back towards Alice, glancing over his shoulder to give her a once-over. Alice swallowed hard. She had a feeling this was all about to explode and all she wanted to do was run. But if she ran, she would either become a target and spoil the driver’s brave action, or the muggers would ignore her and focus on the driver, making her responsible for him.

                _Damn it!_

                “Hey, back off, why don’t you!?” the driver said, his gravelly voice attempting a chummy tone. “Come on, I’d rather not beat anyone up or get my head pounded in today, how about you just turn around and go home?”

                Alice heard running footsteps and turned in time to see the blond leader running at her with the knife. She screamed and flung up her bag, trying to either trip him or block the blade.

                Neither happened, but suddenly the driver was standing over her and his fist was crunching solidly into the younger boy’s face. “Get away from her,” he snarled, the chummy tone gone, replaced with a firm possessiveness. Alice felt a thrill go through her and she shoved it away, enjoying the relief but trying to keep her head in the situation. She finally managed to get her feet under her, rising slowly to stand behind the driver.

                The driver whirled back around as the leader stumbled towards his friends, groaning in pain. “All right,” he said, the snarl curling his voice into a threatening rumble. “Man up. Who wants it? Beautiful woman walking alone and now she’s got a bodyguard. Any of you man enough to keep trying?”

                The leader turned around to glare at the driver, his eyes on fire. The driver stared back, tension rippling the air in front of him. He didn’t blink and it seemed like he wasn’t breathing. Or maybe that was her…yep, she was holding her breath. She tried to exhale slowly and silently, terrified that any sound would result in an explosion of carnage.

                The three boys backed away from them, and the driver stomped on the ground, releasing a roar of challenge. It was enough. The would-be muggers turned and fled.

                It took Alice another few seconds to recognize the world around her. The high-pitched squealing of her nervous system obliterated all sound and her brain felt crushed inside of her head, her thoughts unable to move or process. Claustrophobia clutched her lungs and she began to try and take deep breaths, convince herself there was air. Her legs wobbled.

                The driver materialized beside her, his grip sure and steady. He locked his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the cab, keeping up a soft stream of comforting words. He opened the door and she slumped in out of the cold. Instead of shutting the door, the driver took a quick look around and then knelt at her feet, angling his head to look up at her. “Are you all right?” His voice was gentle now, all hard edges smoothed away.

                Alice’s body responded to the warmth in the cab, her muscles beginning to unclench and her lungs expanding with air. She looked down at him, still not quite registering his face, but dimly aware that it meant safety. She nodded.

                “No, you’re not,” he said. “Get in. Come on.” He waved his hands at her legs and she pulled them away from him, dimly aware that she had a death grip on her bag.  He shut the door and hurried around to the other side, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Hey. Hey. Can you tell me the date?”

                What the hell kind of question was that? Alice lifted her head to stare incredulously at him through the rearview mirror. He stared right back, his eyes intense and the strongest blue she had ever seen. He had a long face, but his jawline was defined and strong. He didn’t look like an average New York cabbie, though she didn’t exactly spend her time staring at them. But something about him felt…out of place.

                “What’s the date?” he repeated.

                “March twenty-first, nineteen-ninety-seven,” she said, blinking as she heard her voice shaking. “Spring solstice.”

                “Hell of a day to be walking.”

                Was that supposed to be funny? She blinked, her mind coming back into focus and order, and she looked down at her bag and out of the window. They were still sitting in the middle of the road on a now-empty street, and the wind had picked up, blowing a few errant flakes around.

                “What’s your name?”

                “Just drive,” she said.

                His steady expression faltered, and then he shrugged. “You could say thank you, you know.” He put the car in gear and stepped on the accelerator, the force pushing her firmly back into the seat.

                “Thank you.” It didn’t feel like enough, but she had no idea what else to say. He had just saved her from a mugging and possibly a rape, and it was embarrassing how hard it was for her to regain her senses after the shock. “I mean that. I…I still…”

                “It’ll take a few minutes,” he said. “The important thing is, they’re gone, and they won’t try to hurt you again.”

                “Thank you,” she repeated, her tone finally taking on a warm sincerity.

                “Don’t mention it,” he replied.

                Her eyes moved to the placard on the divider between her and the driver. The picture didn’t do justice to his eyes, and the chin looked rounder too. Maybe he was temporarily driving someone else’s cab for some reason or another. The name read: ‘Raffi’. Short for Raphael?

                Her peripheral vision revealed his eyes on her through the rearview. Anxiety clutched at her throat. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

                “You never told me your name.”

                A first name would be harmless. She had his, after all. “It’s Alice.”

                “Alice.” He rolled the name around. “Alice. And what do you do, Alice?”

                Alice eyed him in the rearview, making sure he kept his eyes on the road. He found a balance between looking at her and looking at the road, the bright lights of First Avenue lighting up his face as the cab sank into the bustle of Friday night traffic.

“I’m an attorney for the Justice Department,” she relented.

                He was silent, and when she dared to look back, he was staring straight ahead. “Staring to regret saving my life?”

                “What? No!” His voice was indignant, almost offended, not what she had expected at all. “Thinking it’s my lucky day. Now I know who to go to whenever someone stiffs me on a fare.”

                Alice snorted despite herself, and felt a blush burn at the base of her neck. A quiet chuckle echoed through the cab and the driver’s head turned, looking left and right at an intersection. He was smiling, the edges of his eyes crinkling, a flash of his teeth showing in headlights. The sincerity on his face relaxed her, and she finally looked back outside the cab with an intent on placing herself within the city. “Hey…you’re going the wrong way.”

                “Well, you said to just drive…”

                She couldn’t fault him for that. “My home is back that way. 501 East 11th St.”

                He turned at the next intersection. “Forget the fare. Last thing you need after getting mugged is a cab driver looking to finish the job, know what I’m sayin’?”

                Alice smiled and shook her head. “I wasn’t mugged. Thanks to you.”

                “Naw, I just scared ‘em. You weren’t gonna let them get you.”

                She wasn’t so sure, but she appreciated his confidence.

                The two of them rode in silence to her home, Alice staring out the windows, and only just barely catching him in her periphery, watching her in the rearview mirror. Despite his attention, she didn’t feel like he had any ulterior motives, and the horror of what had happened began to etch itself into her brain for later. That hot meal and a run was still very welcoming, but maybe she would just go to bed after instead of watching television.

                The cab pulled up to the curb outside her apartment and Alice unbuckled her seat belt.

                “Whoa, oh! Wait!” The driver leaped out of the car and, before she could get herself gathered together, had flown around to open the door for her, gesturing grandiosely. She got out of the car and finally let herself really look at him, solidifying the rugged features, the casual beanie, the intense eyes. He looked…sweet. As if he was new to the city. Or as if he spent a lot of time around dogs and had adopted the big-eyed-and-upturned-lip look. Either way, she couldn’t help the tiny twinge of attraction in her chest…and she shoved it down firmly. _He saved your life. That doesn’t mean you ask him out._

                It did, however, make her pull out her card. “Look, I really…can’t thank you enough for what you did. So…I owe you one. Here’s my card.” She held it out. “Give me a call if you need something and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

                His eyes brightened, and he reached out to take the card, his thumb pressing warmly and gently on her thumbnail. It was a subtle touch, shockingly sensual, and she dropped her hand the moment she could. “Thanks, Alice,” he said, the smile in his eyes reaching his voice. “Have a good night.”

                “Good night, Raffi.”

                “Raffi?” He blinked, confused, and then his eyebrows went up. “Oh, oh, right. Raffi. No. You can call me Jerry. I’m Jerry. Raffi’s a…a friend.”

                So, he _was_ driving someone else’s cab. Alice smiled and nodded. “All right. Good night, Jerry.”

                “Good night, Alice.” He gave a little salute and grinned as she headed inside.


End file.
